


Roses on a Graveyard

by Adrian_Crevan



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Cutting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heartbreak, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3794758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrian_Crevan/pseuds/Adrian_Crevan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're looking for somewhere to take care of a funeral when you find yourself in front of Undertaker's shop. The odd mortician scares and intrigues you; what will come of it when you fall in love with the Legendary Death?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hm… I mean, this must be the place,” You say to no one in particular. You look up at the large, battered sign directly above the door. “The Undertaker, huh? Well, this is obviously the place, then.” You push open the door and walk into the building. To your surprise, it was quite dark inside, with only a few candles lit and no windows. From what you could see, there were numerous coffins scattered throughout the room and shelves lined with jars you’d rather not know the contents of. The general atmosphere was very creepy, and you were feeling a bit on edge because of it. “Is anyone here?” You call out, hoping against hope for an answer. Suddenly, you hear the creaking of one of the coffin lids behind you swinging open. You spin around and see that one of the larger coffins had been opened and inside was a man dressed in long black robes. As you crept closer, you see that most of his face was concealed under a mop of silver hair, and of what you could see, he was very pale and had a large scar running from his right jawline to under his bangs. His hands were folded over his chest and he had lengthy black nails. You really wanted to see what was under that mop of hair, but you couldn’t just interfere with the dead like that. And yes, you’d assumed he was dead because what sane person would just ‘hang out’ in a coffin like that? “Hm…” Slowly you crept further forward and came up right next to the coffin. You made up your mind. Just a peek, You thought, reaching out a hand to brush up the man’s bangs from his face. “Oh!” You gasped as you took in his face. He had pale skin, and his eyes were closed. What long eyelashes… You then noticed the long scar that ran up to his left temple, passing over his left eye. He most likely would’ve been very attractive in life. As your gaze lingered longer than it should’ve on this man’s face, you let out a sigh. “I need to find the funeral director...” As you said these words, you were about to close the lid of this coffin. Suddenly, the man’s eyes flew open, and you were temporarily stunned at the brilliant green that now glinted up at you. As you realized what just happened, however, you let out a yelp and fell over backwards with a thud. The man proceeded to pull himself upright in the coffin and started to snicker. You gathered your wits and managed to stand up as the strange man began to climb out of the coffin, pausing to just start guffawing, a trail of drool now running down from the corner of his mouth. Who is this nutcase, and what is he doing in here? You wondered, backing away slowly from the form that was now draped over the edge of the coffin quaking with laughter.   
“I… Heh… I apologize for giving you such a scare,” He managed to get out between giggles. “But, ha… You should have seen your face.” He pulled himself all the way out of the coffin and wiped the drool from his mouth, his hair now back in his face. “I’m the Undertaker,” He said, holding out a hand to you, which you took gingerly. He gave your hand a hearty shake and said, “So you said you were looking for the funeral director? Well, here he is!” He swung his arms in a way that was supposed to be a gesture to himself, but ended up being a gesture to the whole room. “What did you need?”   
“I, er… My grandmother just died, and I was looking for someone who’d organize her funeral. Would you happen to offer those services?” You weren’t certain if this man’s sanity was all there, but you didn’t really have much choice at this point.   
“Yes, of course I do,” He said, wandering over to the largest coffin in the room, which seemed to function as a desk. “Would you like some tea?”   
You were slightly taken aback at this sudden inquiry, but were relieved nonetheless that he did indeed offer those services. “I- Yes please. Thank you.”  
“Righty then, I’ll be right back. You just take a seat over there somewhere.” With that, he disappeared through a door in the back that you hadn’t even noticed.   
“What?” You looked around. There weren’t any chairs to be seen in the cluttered room. He doesn’t expect me to sit on a coffin, does he? Evidently he did, so you went over to the coffin nearest the ‘desk’ and sat down, praying for your sake that there wasn’t anybody already in it. A few moments later, Undertaker returned with a tray that had two beakers filled with tea and a plate of dog bone-shaped cookies. He placed this tray on the desk and held out one of the beakers for you. You eyed said beaker suspiciously.  
“Heh, don’t worry. I cleaned it out very well,” He grinned at your bewildered expression. “I’m kidding, don’t look so surprised. I only use these beakers for tea, I have others for work.”  
Relieved, you took the beaker and sipped at the tea carefully. It was actually quite good.   
“Now, about your grandmother,” Said Undertaker, sitting down on the desk and taking a sip of his tea. “Where is she right now?”  
Wow, he’s getting right into it. “She’s still at the hospital; she just died late last night,” You took another sip of your tea.  
“I see.” He said, starting to murmur to himself under his breath. You caught the words ‘transportation’, ‘embalming’, ‘coffin’, and ‘headstone’.   
“Erm… How much is this all going to cost?” You were nervous; you didn’t have too much money.  
“Oh! You needn’t worry about that; I have no use for the Queen’s coins. You gave me such a fine laugh earlier, I may just do it for free.”   
“Really!? But don’t you need profit?” You were completely astounded that he would offer to do all this work for free. Maybe he really is insane…   
“Well, yes. But I only charge if someone fails to make me laugh. I’m sure you’re aware of what a funeral goes for these days? It only takes a few humorless blokes to get me supplies for about 6 months,” Undertaker explained. He picked up one of the cookies on the plate and bit off half of it.  
“Oh,” You weren’t sure what to say to that explanation. But… A funeral for free? That was better than you ever could’ve hoped. “I mean… Thank you! I was really worried about how I was ever going to pay for a proper funeral, but you’re willing to do it for free. That’s amazing! Thank you.”  
“Not for free, you just already paid for it with that laugh. Heh, that laugh was worth two funerals,” He grinned. “That reminds me! When do you want to come back to get the details worked out? I’ll have her here and fixed up by tomorrow, will you come back then?”  
“Yeah, I will. What time should I come?”   
“Why don’t you come around six in the evening? That’s when I close, and the details will take a bit of time to get sorted out, so we can work uninterrupted. How does that sound?”  
“That- That sounds good. I should be able to make it then.” Six in the evening? That’s a bit late… You mentally shrugged. At least it was getting done. You stood up from the coffin.  
“Wonderful! I eagerly await your return tomorrow.” Undertaker finished off another cookie as you went over to the door. As you swung open the door, you turned back to him right before you left.   
“Thanks again. Really.” With that you stepped out into the warm spring air and closed the door, leaving Undertaker in almost total darkness once again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Now… Six, was it?” You stood again at the door of the Undertaker’s shop. You knocked on the door twice, then let yourself in. The interior was much the same as yesterday; the few candles lit placed haphazardly around the room, the numerous coffins on the floor and leaned up against the walls. Undertaker was not seated at his desk as you’d expected, but was nowhere to be found in the dimly lit room. Maybe he’s in one of those coffins again? You certainly didn’t want to go around opening coffins, and it was just your luck that he walked through the back door just then.  
“Oh, you’re early!” He exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting you until six.”  
“I-I thought it was six! What time is it?” You were entirely confused. You swore your clock had said six, but it’s always possible it was fast.  
“It’s five, my dear.” He moved over to his desk to gather up some paperwork that had been scattered messily over the surface.   
“Oh, I’m sorry! Should-Should I leave and come back, then?” Being drastically early was better than being drastically late, you supposed, but no less embarrassing.   
“Nonsense! Here, I’ll close early today and let’s have some dinner, shall we?” He beamed at her expectantly.   
“I can’t ask you to do that, I mean…” You trailed off, unsure of what to say to that proposition.   
“Don’t worry about it,” He said firmly. “I’ve already started dinner a few minutes before you arrived. It’s no burden on me.”   
“Well, I mean… Okay,” You were a bit nervous, as you barely knew this man, and here he was inviting you into his home. “But-“  
“No buts, come on.” You were cut off by Undertaker, who was now back at the door and was gesturing for you to follow him.   
“I- Alright.” You clearly didn’t have an argument here, so went over to Undertaker, who grinned.   
“I’m glad you decided to stay. Now, come on, follow me,” He opened the door to reveal a long, quite narrow hallway, with a faded red carpet in contrast to the dirty tile of the front room. There were about six doors on either side of the hall, suggesting large rooms. While you’d been taking in the space that now lay before you, Undertaker had gone ahead and was holding open a door near the end of the hall.   
“Oh, sorry!” You said, and hurried down the hall toward him.   
“You mustn’t let yourself get distracted so easily, my dear. Now, I’ve just realized. I don’t even know your name yet, what might it be?”  
“Oh, I’m (y/n).” You replied, heading into the room, which was rather smaller than you’d imagined it to be.  
“(y/n)… Beautiful name.” He led you over to a small table in the corner of the room and pulled out a chair for you.  
“No, it’s not. I very much dislike my name.” You seated yourself in the chair he pulled out.  
“I like it, anyhow. It’s a very pretty name, and as such, it suits you well.” He didn’t so much as hesitate with this compliment, then pulled out an elastic to pull his hair up into a very long ponytail. His bangs now out of the way, you could see those bright chartreuse eyes. Your gaze lingered longer than it should’ve on his face yet again. He rolled up his sleeves and caught you staring at him. “Is there a problem?” He inquired.   
“N-No! No problem…” You looked down at your lap in an attempt to hide the slight blush that now creeped onto your cheeks.  
“Alright…” He seemed slightly confused as he turned towards the stove where a pot of dubious liquid was boiling. Now that you could get a good look at his forearms, you saw that they were just as pale as his face, and lightly toned. Several scars wrapped all the way around his arm, while a few others simply crisscrossed the length of it.  
What on earth could’ve happened that gave him all those scars? You didn’t want to pry, but it was intriguing. “Hey… Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”  
Undertaker turned back towards you and smiled. “Of course, what is it?”  
“Where did you get all those scars?” His smile faded rapidly and was replaced with a rather somber expression that didn’t fit him at all.   
“I… I’d rather not discuss that right now,” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”  
“Oh, no! I said you didn’t have to answer if you didn’t want to. I don’t want to pry,” You were very much apologetic for bringing up a topic that clearly bothered him. “Can I ask you something else?”  
He smiled again. “Of course, don’t worry. You can ask me anything, but I can’t guarantee I’ll have an answer.”  
“Okay… What’s your real name? Your name can’t possibly be Undertaker.” You were fairly confident that this was an acceptable topic.   
He chuckled. “Heh, indeed it isn’t. My real name is Adrian Crevan, though hardly anybody actually calls me as such.”  
“Adrian… It fits you very well. May I call you that?” Adrian Crevan, huh? There was something about that name, it just fit him so well.   
“Of course you may! Huh, it’s been so long since someone’s called me Adrian…” He trailed off, probably thinking about the last time he’d been called as such. You noticed the pot of liquid had begun to boil over as you two had been talking, and brought Undertaker out of his thoughts.  
“Adrian, the pot!”   
He shook his head and turned back to the stove to turn off the heat and stir the pot. “Heh, sorry about that.” He grinned sheepishly. “Dinner’s almost ready, at least.”  
“What exactly is dinner…?” You peered over his shoulder at the pot on the stove. There was a dubious brown liquid that was bubbling slowly on top, which reminded you of the way magma bubbles popped, spraying little droplets everywhere. It didn’t look edible, at least.  
“Oh, that? It’s a… stew of sorts,” You must have unintentionally scrunched your nose, because he chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s edible. I think you’ll rather like it, actually.” He turned back to stir the ‘stew’, which appeared to be quite thick. “In the meantime, help yourself to some of those cookies there.” He gestured to the table you were sitting at, where a plate of bone-shaped cookies was resting. You recognized them from yesterday.   
“Thank you.” You reached out and took one; they were surprisingly soft, and had a similar texture and look to sugar cookies. You bit into it and your mouth was immediately flooded with the mingling tastes of cinnamon and sugar, and a slight butteriness. It was delicious, and it took only moments for you to scarf down the rest of the cookie.  
“Heh, I see you like them. Feel free to have as many as you want, just don’t spoil your appetite.”   
Grateful, you took another one and forced yourself to eat it slower this time. “Mm, thank you! Did you make these yourself?”   
He turned his head back towards you. “Yes, I did,” He grinned and turned back to the pot. “Do you approve?”  
“Of course I do, they’re delicious!” You exclaimed. You now had some hope for the upcoming dinner, although you still weren’t certain what it was.   
“I’m happy you like them. I’m confident you’ll like this, now.” He gestured to the pot, which was still boiling. “In fact, I believe it’s done just about now.” He lifted the pot off the stove and carried it over to the table where he set it down and you could get a better look at it. Now that you got a decent look at it, you saw that it wasn’t just brown, but had a number of colorful, vegetable-looking things in it. There were quite a lot of chunks of what looked like some kind of white meat floating near the top. “I’m assuming you want some?” Undertaker’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. While you’d been inspecting the stew, he’d gone and gotten two bowls and a ladle.   
“Oh- Yes please.” He dipped the ladle into the pot and pulled it out, bringing a rather large scoop of stew with it. After he poured this large scoop into your bowl, he handed it to you. You took it gratefully, and nearly dropped it.   
“Whoa! There you go,” He grabbed your bowl a moment before it slipped out of your hands. “A bit heavy?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, it’s my own fault. Here.” He set the bowl down in front of you, as you slightly blushed with embarrassment at being so weak.   
“Thanks…” You took the spoon he handed you and dunked it in your bowl, pulling up one of those chunks of meat.   
“Try it, it’s good.” Undertaker moved the pot back over to the stove to rest and sat opposite you with his bowl. He looked at you expectantly, seemingly waiting for you to take a bite.  
“Oh! Okay,” You took a bite of the meat on your spoon. It looked like any other white meat, like turkey or chicken, but it was neither as dry as turkey nor as moist as chicken. It tasted a bit sweet and gamier than turkey or chicken. It was still delicious, though. “That’s amazing! What is it?”  
He grinned. “It’s duck, I had a feeling you’d like it.”   
You’d never had duck before, and had no idea it could be this good. The two of you ate in silence for a time, but oddly enough it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest.   
-Time skip of eating stew-  
You emptied your bowl and looked up to see that his was not yet empty. Rather, he was staring at the contents with a slight grimace on his face. His bowl was mostly empty, however, as he’d eaten everything except the vegetable-looking things. “Uh… Is something wrong? Aren’t you going to eat those?” You gestured with your spoon toward his bowl. He looked up with a start, and appeared to be slightly confused. Then he seemed to realize what you were referring to and looked back down into his bowl.   
“I, uh, I’ve never cared much for vegetables,” He replied. He looked back up at you with eyes like an earnest child’s. “You wouldn’t happen to like them, would you? Here.” He pushed his bowl across the table towards you.   
“N-No, it’s okay. You need to eat them, they’re good for you,” You felt like you were scolding a young child, the way he was acting. You pushed the bowl back towards him and his face fell as if you’d just given him some terrible news. “Just eat one or two, alright?” Undertaker looked down at his bowl and scowled, then nodded slowly.   
“Oh, alright… Only one?” He looked at you again, seemingly begging you with his eyes to change your mind.   
“Yes, only one.” He was acting incredibly childish, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this man ever managed to run a business like an adult.   
He gave a deep sigh. “Okay…” He picked up his spoon and dipped it into his bowl, bringing up a piece of carrot. He looked at you one more time.  
“Just eat it.” You stood up to put your bowl in the sink, shaking your head.  
He sighed again and put the spoon in his mouth. Immediately, his face contorted in disgust and he moved to grab a cloth or something of the sort to spit out the carrot. He froze when you gave him a stern look that one would give to a disobedient child.   
“Swallow it.”  
He hesitantly swallowed the bit of carrot, and looked sheepishly up at you. “I-I told you I didn’t like vegetables!” He turned and crossed his arms, pouting.   
You sighed and sat back down across from him. “Hey, at least you ate it. Why don’t you scrape the rest of it into the trash and put your bowl in the sink?”  
He glanced back at you, then suddenly grinned and jumped up from his seat. “Alright!” He happily dumped the rest of his vegetables into the bin and set his bowl in the sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry nothing much happened in this chapter, but it's extra long to make up for it ^ ^''  
> The next chapter will have more 'happenings', I promise~


End file.
